I'm Sorry Tom
by The Maze Writer
Summary: She never wanted to do it. She did for him. She did it to save his life. *Teresa's POV form her and Aris's betrayal.*


They made me do this. WICKED.

It wasn't my fault. I'm so, so sorry Tom.

They said they'd kill you if I didn't do it. Said I had to tell Aris that he had to do it too. We knew the stakes.

 _I_ knew the stakes. Knew that I'd probably lose you. But it was worth it. It was worth risking whatever we had for your life.

I didn't mean anything I said.

I think of what I will say to him when this is over. It's a chant, repeating over and over in my mind, keeping me motivated.

I have to do this. It's necessary. For him.

I won't let them kill him.

I'm sorry.

For a while I wasn't sure I could trick him at all, but the pain and anger in his eyes show I have.

Aris and I bring him deeper into the forest, feeling the sticks snap beneath our feet.

"Teresa," Aris calls inside my head. I don't turn, just keep walking. We're getting good at this now.

"Do we really have to do this? Is it too late to back out?"

I purse my lips.

"You heard them. If we don't do it he dies, and I can't have that. You saw for yourself that he's great person. He doesn't deserve to die."

There's silence for a minute, though I can still sense his presence.

"He might never forgive you. You know that, right?"

I want to whip around and punch him.

"Yes, I know that. It's worth the risk. Now shut up, this is going to be hard enough, especially for me. You don't have to make it harder."

"Sorry."

I feel his presence leave. Good. We don't have time for this.

We finally stop in a small clearing. There was can see the infamous box we've were told about, in all its glory. Green, and glowing eerily. That's what we have to get Thomas into. Somehow.

Thomas hardly glances at it. He's staring intently at me.

I can see the wariness and hesitation in his eyes. He doesn't believe this is real. He doesn't want to. He's hanging onto the idea that I'm still in there somewhere, and that I have some sort of plan. That's Thomas for you. Always trying to see the best in people. I let my heart warm for a second, the quickly re-build the wall of bricks that have been separating me from my emotions.

He has to feel betrayed. He has to believe this is real. WICKED needs the patterns, needs to see his reactions. So I did the one thing I knew would push him over the edge. I kissed Aris.

It was just on the cheek, but I heard Thomas's breath catch. Then Aris went in for a kiss on the lips. I obliged, not willingly, but because I had no choice. When I looked back at Thomas he had closed his eyes. He looked sickened. I turned my attention back to Aris.

"Way to sell it," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, I had to kiss you like that. He wasn't buying it."

I pecked him on the lips, trying to make it look like we were whispering words of love, not trying to scheme. Aris caught on. He was a smart boy.

"I know, I'm not mad. Let's just get this over with. Maybe after we can explain everything to him."

Aris kissed my nose.

"Get it over with," I hear Thomas mutter. Apparently, he's thinking the same thing.

We both turn to look at him. His eyes are still closed.

"Just, get it over with."

We turn back to face each other,

"I just feel so guilty. He's done so much for me…." muttered Aris.

I can feel a pair of eyes burning into my face. Thomas has taken a peek.

"Me too. He's my best friend. But remember, we're doing this to save his life;" I whisper back, and lean in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

"This is sick. We have to pretend we're lovers so he'll buy this?"

"We knew that this might happen. I was hoping we wouldn't have to take the act this far…."

Aris took in a breath and looked at me in the face.

"Let's just keep him alive. Whatever it takes."

I nod.

He gives me another kiss and then we turn around to face Thomas. He looking at the box now.

I cough, and he turn his head back towards us.

I start improvising a story about how I supposedly acted buddy-buddy with him in the maze to get the code so we could escape.

"Aris is my best friend, Tom," I finish. I'm blatantly lying now, keeping my face straight and trying not to let my eyes revel the truth.

"I. DON'T. CARE!" screams Thomas. He's a terrible liar. But I try to back off slightly. Wrong approach. I don't want to make him angry. I want to limit the amount of negative emotions he will feel during this. Not like he'll feel any positive ones but…..

"I'm just saying. If you care about me then you should understand why I'd be willing to do whatever it takes to get through this and keep him safe. Wouldn't you have done the same for me?"

I'm momentarily stunned by my own words. "Wouldn't you have done the same for me?" Yes. Yes he would of. My mind flashes through the little memories I have. Thomas is in nearly every one of them. He was always there for me. Always. Protecting me, looking out for me, being there for me. No! I scold myself. You are just making this harder on yourself. If you fail, he dies!

"What is this?" he whispers. "Are you trying to come up with all the ways possible in the universe to hurt me?"

No Tom. I wish you understood how far that is from the truth. I never want to hurt you. Ever.

"Just shut your shuck mouth. And do whatever it is you came here to do."

He's right. This is taking too long.

Part 1 complete. Now to get him in the box.

I walk forward, stepping towards the large rectangle of green glass. There's a key pad there, just like WICKED said there would be. I punch in the code. 796413.

With a hiss the door swings open.

Aris pokes him in the back with the knife, which didn't seem to affect him at all as Tom never did care about himself. But he doesn't fight. Just goes along silently with his head down.

We had nearly gotten him to the doors when he started fighting. His limbs flew in all directions and he hit Aris with a few lucky, desperate punches.

I locked gazes with his wide desperate eyes. Then I charged him.

I smacked the side of his temple with the butt of my spear.

He stumbled backwards, holding his head. He looked ready to pass out. I backed up as he scrambled away. Right into a tree.

I screamed as some heavier twigs fell down and smacked his head. He collapsed again, blood oozing from his head, trickling down his face.

He groaned but didn't pass out. I walked towards him, panting slightly, leveling my spear with his head.

"Get in the room Thomas. Get in the room, or I'll hit you again, I swear. I'll keep doing it until you pass out or bleed to death."

He rears his legs back and kicks us both, connecting with my left knee and Aris's right.

We both let out a yell as our legs crumpled beneath us, sending us sprawling onto the floor.

My knee smarted, and I was sure it was going to leave a bruise.

I scrambled to my feet.

Thomas rolled onto his stomach, moaning.

Aris jumped on top of him, and slid an arm around his neck. I could see him squeezing. I bite my lip as my instincts tell me to kick Aris off of Tom. Old habits die hard.

"You're going in that room," he hissed in Thomas's ear. "Help me Teresa!"

I ran forward and grabbed his arms. Aris rolled off his back as I started pulling Tom towards the room. Aris pushed from behind.

He was too weak to fight. He just kicked feebly.

"Don't do this," he croaked feebly. My heart throbbed.

We set him down in the middle of the box, and he curled up into a ball, facing away from us.

"No," he whispered.

"You're so stubborn. You had to make it harder on yourself. Harder on all of us," I muttered to him.

"Teresa," he moaned.

"Teresa, he said inside my head.

"I'm sorry Tom," I thought back. That much was true. "But thank for being our sacrifice." It was a lie, but also the final nail in the coffin. Tom's face crumpled and he turned his head away, crawling back into a ball.

I stepped back out and shut the door behind me. It made a clicking sound as it locked tight. As soon as it did, our facades crumbled. Aris wheeled around and kicked the nearest tree. I started crying quietly as my walls cracked and collapsed, tears dripping down my cheeks and into my hands. Shame was thick in the air. It was chocking me.

It took an hour before something happened.

A hissing noise started to fill the evening air.

I looked up sharply, eyes intent on the glowing green box that still had a crumpled heap in it.

A white gas wiggled its way through the little holes on the floor.

I saw the figure inside stir and raise his head. He winced, holding his head and crying out.

Slowly and carefully he tried pushing is limbs under him, trying to get on all fours. But it was clear from how much he winced and cried out that it was very painful. He hands and face were still stained with blood.

The gas started enveloping him. He screwed his eyes shut and reopened them, as if trying to regain focus.

He yawned then, and his eyes started drooping.

My eyes widened in realization. It's knock out gas.

His limbs gave out and his head thumped against the floor, eyes fluttering shut.

I placed my hand on the cool outer glass.

Thomas.

Tom.

I did this. We did this.

A shaky hand still covered with his dried blood tries to cover half my face. Trying to hide the shame.

I cry until I have to tears left to shed.

…

A few hours later I have been rendered to rocking myself for comfort. Aris is no help. He sits at the base of a tree, refusing to talk to me. Or maybe he just can't.

I can't sleep. Neither can Aris. We just stare at the box, watching the heap. Watching the even breaths that let us know he's still alive.

What feels like days later Tom begins moving again. He lifts his head and opens his eyes, sitting up, then getting to his feet.

The box seems to know that he is awake. It hiss's again as it opens. As soon as Thomas steps through the door into the lightening sky of early morning, I fling myself on him, giving him a huge hug.

"I'm so sorry Tom," I cry. "I'm so, so, so, sorry. They said they'd kill you if we didn't do everything they told us. No matter how horrible. I'm sorry Tom."

He doesn't hug back.

He pushes me away, pausing only momentarily to take in my puffy eyes and tear streaked face.

But I could see in his stoic expression that nothing would ever be the same between us.


End file.
